Reminiscent Strangers
by mydoctortennant
Summary: Part of the Untitled One-Shot Series; Gwen locked in a room you find yourself reminiscing with the strangest of people...


When Guinevere Leodegrance had heard that there was another Griffin in Camelot the last thing she suspected was for the King to owe her his life.

Arthur was still Camelot's finest Knight despite his father revoking him of his title. Arthur leaving the castle to live with Gwen hadn't made him feel any less of the fighter than he had been, and she was still the Blacksmith's daughter.

Clad in chain mail and the best fitting armour he'd ever had, Arthur had made for the castle along with Gwen. Her duty was to help Gaius with the injured whilst the others fought the creature. Arthur hadn't expected his men to be quite so accepting of him, but Leon had gladly stepped aside to let the future King take his place as their leader.

When they needed fresh water for washing wounds, Gwen had volunteered against Gaius' better judgement (having nearly been killed the last time) he didn't think Arthur would ever forgive him he any harm came to her. Alas, she went anyway. She slipped away from him when his back was turned.

The Griffin hadn't come for her though, oh no. On the rare occasion that Uther actually did anything to help his people, the Griffin had boycotted the group of Knights and gone for him.

That's when Arthur had seen her in her lavender dress, "Gwen!" he darted away from the group running full pelt forwards her, he then saw his father, "What is she doing?" he murmured to himself as the Griffin swooped, "Gwen!" the Griffin had already flown back up ready to strike again. She had pulled the King from the grasp of the creature. Arthur reached them, as the Griffin made to dive again; he pulled them into the grain store and slammed the door.

"Arthur?" Uther heaved, looking at his son in surprise, "son?"

Arthur moved past his father towards the girl, ignoring the man completely, "Guinevere, what are you doing? You could have been killed!" Gwen glared at him as she panted to catch her breath.

"I could hardly let the King die, Arthur!"

"Why not? He'd leave you."

"Because I'm better than that, and so are you," Arthur considered her reply before looking at the floor, "Exactly."

Uther watched the pair's exchange, watched as they ignored him and carried on about their business with each other. He tried the door. It was no use; something must have fallen in front of it. By all accounts, they were stuck.

The King turned to see the pair standing awkwardly. He had not conversed with his son since his departure from the castle. He had heard gossip amongst the household staff that his son had been residing in the Physician's assistant, sometimes kitchen worker, daughter of a blacksmith's house.

A Physician's assistant may well be a better paid position than a kitchen maid but that didn't make the King any more likely to accept his son's conquest.

He'd heard further rumours of Arthur doing odd jobs about the town. That this Guinevere had been giving him lessons in the trade she'd grown up breathing. History had it that no Pendragon before them had ever done anything below their station.

Apart from the occasional mistress.

"Has the creature gone?" Guinevere asked; a screech from outside told them otherwise.

"I should get out there and help."

"You are on longer a Knight of Camelot. You have on right."

"This is my home. I have every right to fight for its survival."

"The door is blocked, we shall have to wait."

Arthur pushed past his father to the door. He pushed it. He kicked it. Then, in one final moment of defeat he slapped it hard with his open hands, "I should be out there."

"Well, you shall have to sit and wait."

Arthur looked from his father to Gwen. The latter had already resided herself to the long haul in the store. She settled herself down on a bag of grain. Arthur rubbed his hands over his face and adjusted his armour so he could sit more comfortably. Once seated he leant against the wall and extended his arm around Gwen. She moved to rest her head against his shoulder. She frowned, moved away again and signalled for Arthur to jean forward. He did so. Wordlessly she removed the breast and shoulder plate and laid them on the floor.

Uther watched his son as he looped his arm around the girl and pressed a careful kiss to her temple. With his free hand he brushed the straw hairs from her forehead and kissed her again. So delicately.

He shook away the memories of his late wife. Unlike his son he had not stooped to the levels of commoners. He turned and swiped at the bags of grain, he brushed any loose dirt from the top. Finally he sat.

Gwen giggled. Uther couldn't help but shoot the girl daggers, but she wasn't paying attention to him.

"What?" Arthur asked.

"Nothing," she shook her head, a small grin on her face.

"What?" Arthur nudged her in the side.

"Doesn't matter."

"Now you've said that it does."

Gwen silently shook her head.

"Please?"

Unable to resist against manners Gwen frowned slightly before telling him, "You just reminded me of years ago when I started working in the castle."

"Oh?"

"When we, I say we, I mean our armies of course, were at was with Odin's men."

"That was a decade ago!"

"Well, that's what you just reminded me of!"

"When Arthur threw a tantrum because I told him he was too young to fight?"

"I did NOT throw a tantrum!" Arthur retorted, head snapping around to look at the King. He'd forgotten his annoyance only for a second - he had to defend his honour after all. Gwen laughed.

"We could hear you in Morgana's chambers, Arthur. It was a tantrum."

"It was a heated debate!"

"At the age of twelve?"

"It was a tantrum," the King stated. Gwen looked at him, amused, there was on use being hostile if they were stuck.

"What is this, gang up on Arthur day? Sure you don't want to get Merlin in here while you're at it?" Arthur huffed.

"At nearing twenty-three you'd expect a Prince to be over having tantrums."

"I'm not having a tantrum!"

"Of course not, darling," Gwen smiled patting him on the arm before her smile turned into a laugh.

She was shocked to find her laugh echoed by the King.

"Not you as well!"

"Your girl has a point," Uther stopped laughing then, a smile remaining on his face, "Do you remember - it must have been six, maybe seven years ago," her started looking at Gwen and ignoring his protesting son, "Arthur must have been about fifteen, and he was practising with Morgana?"

"He couldn't handle being beaten by a girl and claimed his injures occurred before the fight began!"

"She did no-"

"Yes! It was all he spoke about for a month. Even had Gaius keep his arm wrapped for as long!"

"She did NOT beat me!"

"She did," Gwen laughed grinning at him.

"Oh for the love of all things holy, get me out of here. Merlin!" he shouted rapping on the door as loudly as in could. The havoc commencing in the courtyard was too love. He couldn't be heard. He kept trying anyway.

"Perhaps we should have him the trip down memory lane?"

"And let his ego re-inflate? My lord, if it is not out of line, I wish not to live with both Arthur and his ego. It is a nicer house without it."

"You wound me, Guinevere."

"It's true!"

"I'll never believe it," she gave him a pointed look, "until it came from your lips," cheeks blazing she offered him am embarrassed smile. It seemed to her he was choosing to ignore his father's presence for the time being. Or, at least, ignoring him enough to give up the act they use to play around him and everybody else.

Gwen could feel the King looking at her. It burned into her the temperature of fire. As much as it was nice not to hide any more it was still unnerving to her that the King knew, and that Arthur on longer seemed to care.

Back when he'd first been living with her he'd been quietly depressed. It had taken her weeks and a frank conversation before he had started helping out in the town. Fetching water and wood for the elderly (very few didn't nearly die of shock at the Prince helping them) once he'd grown fed up of such mediocre chores he'd taken to asking Gwen about the forgery. She'd left it to close, dust had gathered and it had ended up as a store room for wood and straw and anything else that required it, mainly things belonging to Gwen's late father.

Arthur had seen it and decided to clear it, selling on or giving away the items he could to those who needed them or would benefit from them. He soon found that a little charity went a long way. He got to see first hand how his acts as a Prince benefited those who lived in his Father's order.

He got the forge working again; Gwen had promised to teach him the skills he'd require to get it functional. As it stood now, he was still learning but it wasn't an art one cold pick up over night. He'd only just started his first sword – Gwen not allowing him to waste a scrap of metal doing a bodged job. She started him on smaller things and shown him how he could mend his _own _armour.

"Perhaps it has been my keeping him under a protective hand that made him so."

"When a parent dies, especially in childbirth, the other parent does all they can to ensure that no harm comes to them. My father was the same."

"I am sorry to hear that, Guinevere."

"It is hard to miss something you've never known. Arthur can tell you that. You always wonder but you never know for sure what it would have been like," Gwen offered with a sympathetic smile. Arthur stopped rattling the door and was looking down over his shoulder at her. He couldn't understand how she could be so civil to a man who treated her so badly, "And, if I may, my lord, he had turned into a fine and caring man, so you must have done something right."

"Perhaps-"

"It is clear you care-"

"I think you are wrong."

"Sorry?"

"You give yourself no credit. From what I hear you have made him more than caring-"

"It was already inside of him-"

"AHA!" Gwen jumped; she knew she'd said the wrong thing when a cocky grin spread over Arthur's face, "You said you didn't remember!"

"Remember what?"

"The man I am inside!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do."

"Arthur," she warned him, signalling to his father, "Not now."

The more the young couple interacted the more Uther saw what he had been blind to for the last year. All the girls he had seen his son with over the years and this was love. The others had never been able to take him down a peg like Igraine used to do to him. Not even Morgana. They'd just bickered and despite Uther's original plans their interest in each other had never amounted to more than sibling rivalry.

What Uther had seen, what he had heard, unless he was very much mistaken, was love. His son was in love, properly this time, with a common girl. A girl Uther himself had witnessed turn into the most wonderful woman – albeit through blind eyes. He could see why his son was so enamoured by her, not only was she visibly beautiful but she was internally too. She cared about everybody else above herself and acted with such nobility. She could probably rival Arthur himself.

"Guinevere," the blacksmith's daughter turned to him, "I owe you my thanks; you acted above your station. So thank you."

"No need, Sire."

"There is every need. You could have left me for the creature but you did not, so I thank you."

"You're welcome."

-

Rattle. Thud. "MERLIN!"

"He cannot hear you, Arthur. Like he didn't hear you the first seventy-eight times!"

"The commotion is over, either we have won or we have lost. I trust Leon to lead us to victory."

"He will find us eventually."

"As I am sure he will, but shouting gives him more chance. He might be a blithering idiot, but he just might have some skills."

"Who is a blithering idiot?" The idiot in question asked as he unlatched the door.

"About time, Merlin."

"Sorry, I've only got one pair of hands," The King cleared his throat, "Annnnnd had I realised you were in here sooner, Sire, I would have come quicker. Please don't put me in the stocks," he cringed, closing his eyes tight shut.

"He won't but I might," Arthur cajoled shoving Merlin out of the store. The King followed him. Gwen trailed behind them having picked up Arthur's removed armour.

-

The fire burned, sweat glistened on Arthur's forehead as he heated the metal.

Somebody cleared their throat behind him, "One second," he called out, taking the sword from the flame. He turned to be greeted with the face of his Father, "What do you want?"

"I came to speak to you."

"I can see that."

"I came to thank you for your efforts yesterday."

"Now you have, now you may leave," he went to put the unfinished blade back into the fire.

"Son-"

"Leave."

"Your actions yesterday-"

"I said leave."

"You're actions yesterday proved, Arthur, that you are a leader. I'll admit my actions of late have been rash. I was hoping you would consider moving back to the castle."

"You would never accept my conditions," Arthur thrust the sword into the flame and turned back to his work.

"Perhaps, if you made them known, you could try me," Arthur removed the sword from the fire, and rested it on the surface, picking up his hammer.

"I do not move back alone," he hit the metal, "You will accept my proposals without a second thought," he hit it again, the hammer bouncing, hitting the table before hitting the sword again, "and you allow me to build the villagers in the lower town a new well."

"There are not unreasonable demands."

_"All_ of my proposals, Father-"

"Yes."

"Including that of marriage," he tested, but the look on his father's face didn't change, "to the woman of my choosing."

"One condition, Arthur," Arthur looked at him, stony faced and unwilling to compromise, "That that woman is Guinevere," Arthur's jaw dropped slightly, looking at his father looking for any hint that he would take it back.

"I shall talk to Guinevere about it."

"So you will come back."

"I shall talk to her; see what she had to say."

"And when she accepts?"

"_If_ she accepts, we will see you in the castle in due course," Uther nodded at his son. He still had many lessons to learn and it seemed he was to look no further than his own son to teach him.

"In due course," and with that he left.

-

"Mr Fletcher will be fine, if I could ask you to take him a vial in the morning he will be as good as new."

"Certainly," Gwen noted it down, "And what about the severe bites to Percy's leg?"

"His dressings will need changing in a few days; I will see he comes here for us. For now, Guinevere, I believe you have company," He indicated over her shoulder, a small smirk on his face.

Gwen turned to see Arthur nonchalantly leaning against the door frame, "May I take her from you?"

"We are done for the day," Gaius permitted, "I shall see you bright and early tomorrow, Gwen."

"Okay," she smiled, picking up her notes and placing them in her bag. She left the Court Physician watching the couple leave. He smiled to himself as he watched the Prince take her hand as he led her down the steps.

"Good day at work?"

"I learnt a few things," she said, knowing the details wouldn't interest him at all, no matter how much he pretended that they did, "I'm surprised to see you."

"I thought, perhaps, we could go on a small walk before I help you with dinner."

"Help?" Gwen's eyes widened, she knew what help would end up as…

"You know, chop my fingers to pieces. Scold myself on the water. And then, just maybe, give us both food poisoning," Gwen laughed. Arthur hooked her bag from her shoulder and placed it on his own, tugging on her hand and leading her across the courtyard away from the town, "Or maybe I'll just wash up."

"Probably for the best," Gwen looked around, "Where are you taking me?" He led her up the spiral staircase, ignoring her question and leading her to the very top, "Arthur?"

"One day," he said, positioning himself behind her and gesturing out to the rolling landscape, "All of this could be ours."

"Have you been at the cider?"

"When I was fifteen I came up here," he said, his breathe hot on Gwen's cool skin as he wrapped his arms about her waist, "I looked over Camelot and I asked myself what sort of King I'd be. Do you know what I concluded?"

"A rubbish one that gets beaten by girls?"

"She did not- fine. But no. I told myself I would be fantastic. If I had help."

"Oh yeah," Gwen started sarcastically, "Of course you did. And then a pig flew."

"Don't be cheeky," Arthur gently turned her in his arms, "The point is, if I would speak to my fifteen year old self now I would tell him to accept the help I was offered and look for it in unexpected places," Gwen smiled softly, running her fingers up his forearms, "And not to be so horrid."

"You weren't that bad."

"Merlin still calls me a Royal Prat."

"That's Merlin, he does it out of love-"

"He does it because he's an idiot- Owh!" Arthur rubbed his bicep and pouted, "Not fair."

"You deserved it," She said smirking.

"I'll take it back."

"Take what back?"

"My deal with my father, I'll leave you behind and marry Merlin."

"Awh, I see it now- Wait. What?"

The dopiest of grins plastered across Arthur's face, "Marry me."

"But your father?"

"Will see me married to nobody else. His condition."

Two short startled breaths left Gwen's lips before she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him full on the lips. One arm steadying her around her waist, the other tangled in her hair, Arthur reciprocated in kind, running her tongue over her lip.

Breathless, Gwen gently moved away, Arthur's hand in her hair keeping her close, "Is that a yes?"

"It's a yes."


End file.
